Devil on the Run
by busymommy
Summary: Jasper's fiancee takes off after cleaning out his bank account and stealing his car. What happens when he follows her, picking up a hitchhiker on the way? AH/ rated M for language & lemons. 1st place Public Vote in 100Monkeys O/S Contest by Team FireandIce.


**Title: Devil On the Run**

**Pairing: Jasper/Bella**

**Rating: M **

**Song: Arizona**

**Summary: Entry for the 100 Monkeys One Shot Contest by Team FireandIce. Jasper's fiancee takes off after clearing out his bank account and stealing his car. What happens when he follows her, picking up a hitchhiker on the way? **

**DISCLAIMER: Stephenie Meyers owns the characters, 100 Monkeys owns the song, I just threw it all together to see what would happen.  
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**_Much love and thanks to my amazing beta, nails233. She's always there to pull me through at the last minute!_**

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><p><strong>Devil on the Run<strong>

**JPOV**

"Fucking hell! That bitch!" I slammed the phone down on its desk receiver, before kicking the chair across the room, sending it skittering loudly into the bookcase.

My open office door filled with people trying to find out what happened. Emmett, my business partner and best friend, pushed his way through the crowd. Shooing everyone away, he closed the door on their gawping faces. Barely acknowledging his presence, I pulled out my cell phone and dialed her number. Disconnected. I should have fucking known. Scrolling through the numbers, I tried her best friend. When the call went straight to voicemail, I unleashed a tirade, ending with a demand that either she or the feckless bitch that I was engaged to return my call immediately. I dropped the phone on my desk and contemplated my next move.

"Jazz, dude, what the hell is going on? You're screaming and throwing shit around the room like a madman. What the fuck happened to that office decorum you were preaching about when Rose and I were making out in the copy room?"

"Okay, first of all – just fucking gross. It's bad enough that you're dating my sister; I did NOT need to walk in on you two bumping uglies on the Xerox machine. Second, I just got a call from the bank that they could not put through all of my scheduled payments because my bank account is fucking empty." I paused in the furious pacing I'd been doing since I began talking and collapsed into one of the leather armchairs near the recently maligned bookcases. "Empty as in wiped the fuck out, not a dime left of the $50,000 I put in there just yesterday. That - that…fucking deceitful bitch that I trusted with everything I had went in and cleaned it all out first thing this morning."

Dropping my hand from where I'd been dragging it through my hair while I spoke, I knocked something off the table next to me. Leaning forward, I saw an overturned picture frame. I picked it up; studying the image it held, before throwing it across the room with a vicious growl. The glass shattered, the frame cracked in half, and the picture inside fluttered to the floor. When Emmett moved to pick up the shards of glass and wood, I yelled at him to leave it.

"Okay, Jazz, take a deep breath. First of all, did you cover things with the bank? Do you need to pull some money from the business account? I'll call and give the approval for it, if you need me to."

The small recording company I'd bought from a bank foreclosure was our baby, the crown jewel in my own mini empire. Emmett, my sister Rosalie, and I had busted our asses to bring it back to life and expand it into one of the premiere recording studios in the South. Rosalie's business acumen and people skills helped us branch out into talent management, and together the three of us had created a force to be reckoned with in the music industry. We'd pissed a few people off and taken advantage of my street contacts to get us there, but we'd made a name for ourselves. We had a knack for finding the 'Next Big Thing' and it made all of us wealthier than we'd ever imagined, personally and professionally.

"No, no, the bank's all squared away. That was just the joint account. She didn't have access to anything else and there was plenty elsewhere. I had them cancel her debit card, too. Honestly, though, I don't think she'll try to use it. Fuck!" I jumped up and strode to the desk, pulling my wallet out as I did. Grabbing the phone, I called the first of five credit cards, tossing my cell and another one to Emmett. He looked at me quizzically, but quickly caught on to what I was asking him to do when I began to speak.

"Yes, I need to cancel my credit card immediately and check any transactions that were made on it since the last statement." As I rattled off the numbers on a card I'd rarely used, I heard Emmett on the phone with the Visa call center. "Yes, ma'am, this is Jasper Whitlock, my social security number is 622-51-5876. Yes, that's my current address and phone." Scribbling on a notepad, I wrote down everything Emmett would need to answer the questions at the other company, shoving it across the desk toward him. At the operator's next word, I slammed my hand onto the desk, fury consuming me again. "Are you frigging kidding me? I'm sorry, please pardon my language. Yes, the advances are fraudulent. No, I didn't authorize my fiancé to make them. Yes, I'm willing to press charges. No, I haven't filed a police report yet, but I will be shortly. Yes, I'll call you with the number as soon as I have one. Thank you for all your help."

Emmett, posing as me on my cell, was having the exact same conversation. I pulled another card out, going through the same routine. Emmett walked over and took the next card out of the pile I'd placed on the desk next to my wallet. Within 30 minutes, all five cards were cancelled and I started computing Maria's take. All told, between cash advances, purchases, and the bank account, she'd screwed me out of close to $150,000. Who knew what I'd walk into when I got home. I couldn't even call Mrs. Cope, my housekeeper; it was her day off.

"Jazz, what the hell is going on?" Emmett asked again. "We all just had dinner three days ago and everything seemed fine. Why the fuck did your fiancé clear out your bank account and max out the credit cards? Don't get me wrong, you know I never particularly liked her, but this is fucking crazy."

"I have no idea, Em, but I guaran-damn-tee I'm gonna find out." Pulling open the bottom drawer of my desk, I pulled out the black lock box that I'd stored there when we first moved into the building five years ago. "I need to get to the house. Can you handle my meetings this afternoon or reschedule them? Thank the fuck that Rolling Stone had to reschedule the photo shoot." Finally completing the combination, I opened the box and pulled out the Glock and ammunition clips that were lying inside.

"Yeah, I got the meetings covered," turning to look at me, Emmett's eyes widened. "What the hell is that for?"

"Whatever I need it for. Don't ask any questions, Em, then you won't have to lie about anything later." I shoved the gun into the back of my jeans, and then grabbed my wallet and phone. Pulling on my leather jacket, I adjusted it to make sure nothing was visible. Walking around my desk, I clapped Emmett on the shoulder. "Just keep shit covered here. I'll call when I can."

"But Jazz…" Not wanting to discuss anything further, I held up my hand to silence him.

Jerking open the door, I strode across the office to the waiting elevator, ignoring the wary stares around me. Once inside and the doors were closed, I called Jenks. Despite the fact that I'd distanced myself from the streets years ago, I'd been smart enough not to sever every tie. Jenks was one of those ties. He was a seedy-ass motherfucker, but damn effective for the shit I needed done. I quickly filled him in on the basics, and then told him what I needed. Within minutes he was searching Maria's phone records, email accounts, and social pages. I gave him her friend's cell number, too, and told him to track it. My gut instinct told me that wherever Maria was, so was Letty.

The elevator jolted to a stop in the parking garage. Stepping cautiously out into the open bay, I scanned the area around my car. Security or not, I wasn't taking any chances. Noticing nothing out of the ordinary, I slid into my crimson Ferrari F430. Turning the key, the powerful engine roared to life before setting into a vibrating purr. I shoved the stick shift into reverse and the little car lunged out of the parking space. Pulling out of the gate, I impatiently waited for a break in traffic, tapping a staccato rhythm out on the steering wheel. Once an opening appeared, I punched the clutch and gas, squealing into traffic, burnt rubber tracks left in my wake. I headed southeast toward home, dreading what I might find when I arrived.

**~~AZ~~~~~AZ~~~~~AZ~~~~~AZ~~~~~AZ~~**

Settling back against the cream leather seat, I felt the pressure of the Glock against my spine. Not all of my businesses had always been legit and I'd become accustomed a long time ago to having to protect what was mine. The suave businessman that people knew now was a far cry from the punk ass, street smart kid I'd been when I first dropped into Houston 10 years ago, a couple grand in my pocket, in search of a dream. A singer and guitarist, I was looking to make my way to LA or Nashville and break into the business. I didn't give a shit which city I ended up in, just so long as I got my shot. I quickly learned, though that there are no sure things in the music business and there were better ways to make it rich, while still keeping my finger in my favorite pie.

Just like any other big city, the back streets of Houston were full of every vice conceived by man and quite a few the Average Joe wouldn't think of. I had the right kind of charisma to parlay many of those vices into lucrative businesses. Gambling, prostitution, guns. Hell, I'd touched on everything but drugs. That shit destroyed lives. Besides, the boys that handled that shit were the real deal and I wasn't looking to die young. I'd also found, too, that if I stayed out of their most lucrative endeavors they tended to overlook my drabbling in the other ones. Carrying a gun became a necessary evil, though, and I'd had one ever since. It wasn't like the people I dealt with were using credit cards and that kind of cash made people act stupid.

When the money started getting good, I'd been wise enough to invest in legitimate enterprises. I bought up real estate, helped out faltering businesses, and eventually took over a few. I'd stepped on more than one set of toes in the process, toes that belonged to people who got mad, then got even. Getting out of shit became second nature, trusting people became impossible. Until Maria. Even then, I'd been smart. Jenks had checked her out and everything came back clean. Had he been wrong, or was she just a devious enough bitch to pull this shit on her own? What the fuck ever, I was going after her conniving ass and taking back what was mine.

Reaching the gated community I'd built my home in three years ago, I was waved through by Tyler, the security guard. I reduced my speed, mindful of the small parks filled with nannies and children that dotted the winding roads meandering throughout the upscale neighborhood. The road ended in a large secluded cul-de-sac, its only occupant the 5,000 square foot contemporary tri-level I called home. Approaching the closed gates with trepidation, I reached behind my back to grab the gun, resting it on my thigh while I entered the pass code for the security system. The gates glided open smoothly, and I flew up the circular drive, screeching to a stop outside the open garage doors. The Mercedes I'd bought Maria was nowhere to be seen.

I unlocked the door and quickly entered a second code on the control panel. The house was unnaturally silent, missing the music that typically drifted out of the integrated sound system. Shifting the weight of the gun in my hand, I inched toward my partially closed office door. I never left it like that; it was either open or shut no happy medium. I stood out of the way, stretching my arm forward, opening the door until it was flush against the wall. No one, but someone had been in there and I was pretty sure I knew who. I reached behind me, placing the gun back in my waistband. The desk top was in shambles, papers scattered everywhere. Walking around it, I found the drawers haphazardly open, clearly rifled through. Scraps of paper stood up, akimbo to the orderly piles I preferred. More paper littered the floor. What was she looking for? I kept nothing important at home, it was either at the office or secured on the flash drive on my keychain.

There could be only one thing she'd looked for access to. Scanning the room, my eyes shot to the wall where the Dali should have been hanging. The discarded painting lay on the floor, the wall safe it had hidden open, the small bundles of cash gone. I kept very little there, maybe $25,000. I shook my head at the incongruity and walked over to replace it, checking first that my personal items were still safe under the false bottom.

The painting she'd callously set aside was twenty times more valuable than the small haul she'd retrieved from behind it. I shouldn't have been surprised; she'd never appreciated my Madonna. Of course, she'd have been hard-pressed to find a buyer for it, even if she'd realized its value. Still, I had no clues as to what the fuck caused all of this in the first place. I'd always been generous. Her every need, hell every want, was hers at the swipe of a card and I'd paid the bills without a word.

Certain that Maria had cleared out hours earlier, I gave up on subterfuge and strode through the house. The rest of the downstairs was undisturbed. There were assorted art pieces and figurines throughout the house and all were accounted for. I took the steps two at a time, already knowing I'd find her things cleared out of our room. She didn't disappoint me. She'd emptied the closet and the small room safe that had protected the many pieces of jewelry I'd purchased for her over the last eighteen months. Tossed on the unmade bed, like an afterthought, was a piece of note paper.

Snatching it up, I was distracted by my ringing cell phone. Checking the screen and seeing Jenks' name flash, I hit the button to receive the call.

"What've you got?"

"_You ain't gonna like it, boss. That Letty chick has been playing go between with Maria and a certain Laurent Devareux. That Letty, she don't delete nothing. All the emails were there, just ripe for the finding."_

"Fucking hell! What the hell is up with your intel that you missed that connection?"

"_Don't matter none, boss. She played both of you. Letty's cell has been blowing up with messages from him demanding to know where they are. Looks like your girl and her friend done skipped town on both y'all."_

"She took the Mercedes. Can you trace it's GPS?"

"_You know if it's electronic, I can trace it. I got a hit off Letty's phone before she shut it off. They're bout an hour from the Arizona border. Devareux is here in Houston, based on the tower his phone was hitting off. They's running, boss."_

While he talked, I read the piece of paper I clutched in my furious grip.

_**Jazz~**_

_**Thanks. It was fun while it lasted.**_

_**~Maria**_

Livid, I roared into the phone, "No one plays me for a fool! I'm hitting the road now. Find them and call me, immediately!" Ending the call, I shoved the phone into my pocket. Throwing a change of clothes in a duffle bag, I thundered down the stairs, rage fueling my determination for vengeance.

Within the hour, I was speeding north on 45. I'd called Emmett, letting him know he'd have to manage without me for a few days. He pleaded with me to just report the car stolen and let the cops deal with her, but I cut him off, hanging up before he could finish. Jenks located the Mercedes just west of Wichita Falls. They had almost a seven hour head start on me and I knew I'd have to stop and sleep eventually. I told Jenks to stay on top of the tracking and keep me updated. I adjusted the seat, stowed the Glock in the glove box, turned up the radio, and followed the trail.

**~~AZ~~~~~AZ~~~~~AZ~~~~~AZ~~~~~AZ~~**

I'd managed to drive until 2 am before having to stop for sleep. Pulling into a truck stop north of Wichita Falls, I'd locked up the car and set the alarm in my phone. Five hours later I was back on the road, a cup of shitty coffee in my hand to chase down the sausage biscuit I'd picked up in the diner. Calling Jenks, I got an update on the Mercedes' location. It had been stationary since midnight outside of Albuquerque, New Mexico. Still seven hours ahead of me. Hopefully they'd keep their asses asleep for a few more hours. I dropped the phone into the holder on the dashboard and turned the radio back up, the miles ticking away on the odometer as the sun crept up the horizon behind me.

Eleven o'clock. I'd just hung up the phone with Jenks again. They were on the move and had been for about a half an hour, still heading west. A four hour gap. Frustrated, I pulled off the interstate west of Amarillo, a half hour shy of the state line. I needed to take a piss; I was starving and thirsty. Parking in front of a small restaurant, I exited the car and locked it.

A well-built brunette sitting on a cement buttress near the side of the road caught my eye. She was dressed in cutoffs and well-worn cowboy boots, her legs long and tanned. The white t-shirt she wore was knotted in the back, a sliver of skin peeking out between its hem and the waistband of the shorts. A denim jacket was casually tossed over the guitar case and bag resting at her feet. She leaned back on her hands, her face turned up into the sun, eyes hidden by a pair of dark shades. A simple black cowboy hat rested low on her forehead, almost covering the dark brown hair underneath. A beat-up truck pulled up and she talked to the driver, before grabbing her ear and hopping in the passenger's seat.

After a quick burger and checking my directions, I filled up the tank and hit the road again. Crossing the border into New Mexico, I saw someone trudging down the side of the road. Drawing closer, I saw it was the brunette from earlier. I pulled to the side of the road in front of her, waiting for her to catch up to the car. When she did, she leaned in the window.

"Need a lift?" I asked, pushing my sunglasses to the top of my head.

Good Lord, she was fucking gorgeous up close. She wore no make-up. A smattering of freckles danced across her slightly upturned nose, her lips were a deep rose, the bottom one slightly fuller, almost lush in its plumpness. Her unfettered breasts strained the snug t-shirt, her nipples pebbled underneath. I dragged my eyes back to her face, unable to see her eyes under the shades.

She gave the car and me the onceover before answering, "Where you headed?"

'Right now, Albuquerque. I don't know yet from there. Where you looking to go?"

She looked at me thoughtfully before making a decision. Opening the door, she dropped her bag and guitar behind the seat.

"I'm working my way toward LA. Can I ride with you as far west as your going?"

"Fine by me." I checked traffic and slid the car back out onto the highway. Dropping my shades back in place, I extended my hand toward her. "Jazz Whitlock from Houston."

"Bella Swan from Oklahoma City."

"What's in LA, Bella Swan, that you left Oklahoma City?"

"Hopefully my future. What's in Albuquerque?"

"Someone who made a fatal mistake in judgment." Looking to change the subject, I jerked my head toward the back of the car. "I'm guessing you're a musician. You any good?"

"So I've been told. I guess I'll find out in LA." She pushed her sunglasses off her face, her fingers nervously tapped on her leg as she turned in the seat to face me. "So is there gonna be trouble when you find whoever it is you're looking for? I really don't need to get tangled up with the cops."

"Not if I get back what was stolen from me. Why are the cops a problem, you a runaway?" She didn't look that young, but hell these days who could tell.

"Hell no, but having to deal with the cops is a scene I don't want to get involved in. We all got shit in our past, you know? Let's just say that my bank account wasn't always as full as it needed to be when I wrote checks. Was something important stolen?"

Glancing over at her, I saw thinly veiled excitement dancing in her warm bourbon colored eyes. She shot me a quixotic smile and lifted a finely arched eyebrow, waiting for my answer. My phone rang before I could answer her. It was Jenks with a status update on my wayward fiancée. While he talked, I watched my passenger out of the corner of my eye. She moved the seat all the way back and reclined it slightly. Adjusting her body, she stretched her arms over her head, while her toes pushed toward the floorboard. My eyes travelled up her body, admiring the expanse of legs disappearing into the frayed cuffs of her shorts. The hem of her shirt had rode up even further and I saw a slight sparkle from a navel piercing. The fabric pulled tighter across her breasts and my eyes were drawn to the darkened areolas visible through the thin fabric. In response my dick tightened underneath the constraining fabric of my jeans. Luckily her eyes were closed and she missed my blatant perusal and my body's reaction.

Shifting in my seat to ease the pressure, I focused back on my conversation. My jaw tensed as Jenks relayed the text messages he'd intercepted from Letty's cell phone. Apparently they were meeting someone in Arizona. Jenks had traced the number back and had a name for me, too… James Harris. I couldn't fucking believe it. James was her ex-boyfriend, the one she'd supposedly left because he was abusive and had put her in the hospital one too many times. My temper raged. I told Jenks to keep tracking her and get me everything he could about Harris.

Disconnecting the call, I dropped the phone back in the holder and punched the dash. Bella jumped in her seat and I apologized, still cursing Maria under my breath.

"Girl trouble?" she asked, a hint of amusement in her voice.

"Yeah, you could say that." I pulled my glasses down and pushed my hair back from my face. My voice harsh from anger I continued, "If that's what she wants, that's fucking fine, but I'll be damned if I'm financing her shit."

Bella became silent. I looked over to see her gnawing on her bottom lip.

"What? I can see you want to say something, just say it."

She contemplated her choice of words before answering, "I'm just thinking it must be a shit ton of money if you're going to chase her across three states to get it back."

'It's enough. She also stole one of the cars from my garage. She's free to leave if she wants, but she's not gonna make me look like a fool in the process. I'm nobody's fucking puppet."

We sat in silence after my outburst, then Bella spoke softly, "I seriously doubt you're anyone's puppet."

**~~AZ~~~~~AZ~~~~~AZ~~~~~AZ~~~~~AZ~~**

Not answering, I turned up the radio and the next couple of hours flew by. Bella dropped her hat back on her bag before she fell asleep and I looked over frequently. Her shirt slid up more when she shifted against the seat and my fingers itched to trace the delicate curve of her waist. Her nipples budded again under the heat of my gaze. The line of her neck was graceful and the pulse fluttered under her skin, begging to be kissed. Her tongue snaked out to moisten her lips and I groaned to myself at the thought of it gliding up the erection pushing against my zipper. Reaching her eyes, I was startled to find them open.

"Like what you see?" she asked, her hand reaching over to ghost across the taut muscles of my thigh. My groin tightened even more in response. She laughed lightly. "I guess so."

My eyes held hers for a moment before breaking away. Her hand slid higher, the sides of her fingers pressing against my now rock hard dick. I cleared my throat, my voice thick with desire when I spoke. "Careful, darlin'. You might get more than you bargained for."

She unbuckled her seatbelt, leaning over to whisper in my ear, "Do you know the best way to forget a woman who's left you?" I shook my head, not trusting my voice to speak when she palmed my crotch, her fingers moving to the button at my waist. She flicked it open while answering her own question, "You fuck another one." Her tongue traced the shell of my ear before her lips moved to kiss my neck.

I groaned as she dragged down the zipper and then slid her fingers inside to find the fly on my boxer briefs. I drew my breath in sharply when her skin touched mine. Her hand gripped my shaft, drawing it out of the opening and gliding her little fist to the head. Her thumb pressed across the slit, spreading the droplets of pre-cum around the head. She pumped up and down my length, before her head dropped to my lap and her hot little mouth took me inside. My hand moved to push her hair out of the way, tangling in the curls. I watched her checks hollow in around me and moaned at the combination of the tight suction and the feel of my dick slipping down her throat. She swallowed around me and I fought the urge to thrust into her mouth. I tightened my free hand on the steering wheel, my knuckles whitening as I used the other hand to hold her hair, trying to focus on the road as my body tensed under her ministrations.

"Fuck, Bella! Your mouth is so fucking hot!" I tugged her hair in warning, "Baby, I'm gonna cum." Instead of lifting her head, she took me deep into her throat again, her throat opening to take me in and I let go, shooting hot streams into her greedy little mouth. She swallowed it all, licking and sucking her way back to the tip, swirling her tongue around the head to ensure she'd gotten it all.

I pulled the car into an abandoned rest area, driving to a secluded corner behind a storage building before parking. Pulling on her hair, I brought her face to mine, my tongue diving onto her mouth. I tasted the saltiness of my release on her tongue as mine tangled with it, stroking it. My hand groped her breast, teasing the pebbled nipple with my fingers. My other hand slid up the smooth skin of her thigh, teasing under the frayed denim edge, seeking her core. There was no barrier when I found the moist heat and I slid my finger into the soft folds, rubbing against her clit. She moaned into my mouth, lifting her hips to meet my questing finger. I slid lower, my finger slipping inside of her. Gliding in and out, I added another one. My cock throbbed to life again and suddenly touching her was not enough. I withdrew my hand and unfastened my seatbelt, reaching behind me to open the door. She whimpered at the loss and her eyes widened when I pulled my mouth away. Stepping out of the car, I walked to her side and opened the door.

"Take your boots off and get out."

She quickly complied. I closed the door and pressed the length of my body against hers, and captured her lips with mine again. Cupping her ass in my hands, I picked her up and carried her to the hood of the car. Laying her down, I pushed her shirt out of the way and kissed her navel before tracing a path to her breast with my tongue. Mouthing the darkened flesh, I laved my tongue over it and then kissed my way to the other. Bella's hands grasped my hair and her body arched up to meet my questing lips. My fingers fumbled with her shorts and jerked them down her body. My fingers plunged inside of her again, thrusting, twisting, stroking her until her walls clamped around them and she shuddered through her orgasm. Breaking my mouth away from hers, I stood up. I reached into my back pocket for my wallet and removed a condom. I shoved down my jeans and boxer briefs, fully releasing myself. I tore open the foil packet and rolled the thin latex down my length. I grabbed Bella's hip and pulled her down the car, her ass resting on the edge and her knee bent to steady her foot on the bumper. Pulling a leg over my shoulder, I slid my tip across her opening, collecting the moisture before thrusting deep inside her.

Driven by pure lust and anger, there was nothing gentle about our coupling. I plunged deep into her, drawing back out to the tip, before slamming balls deep again. Her nails dug into my ass, pulling me hard against her, meeting me thrust for thrust. With guttural moans and growls, we assaulted each other, our lips questing, teeth biting, driving each other closer to the edge. Bella wrapped her free leg around my waist, and screamed my name as she exploded around me. My fingers tightened on her hip, and I thrust deep one last time, my hips jerking convulsively as I emptied myself into the condom. I dropped my head to her chest, sweat pouring off of both of us. As my heart rate slowed and my breathing evened out, I withdrew and removed the condom, tossing it into the woods behind us. I kissed her again before speaking.

"I don't know about you, but I want a shower. Let's get out of here." I pulled my pants up and fastened them, while she did the same. Since she was shoeless, I carried her back to the car and settled her inside. Wordlessly, I drove away from the rest area, leaving the interstate at the next exit and pulling into the first hotel I found. Leaving her in the car, I went inside and secured a room. Coming back out, I found her standing next to the car, looking unsure of her next move. I walked over and pulled her bag out of her hand and grabbed mine out of the trunk.

"You weren't leaving, were you?" I asked, my eyes searching hers.

"Not if you want me to stay."

"Oh, darlin', I definitely want you to stay," I answered with a kiss, punctuating my continued desire for her by grinding my hips into hers. "I'm not nearly ready for you to go. Leave your guitar in the car."

Taking her hand in mine, we entered the hotel and crossed the lobby to the elevator. When the doors closed, I pinned her against the wall, my mouth plundering hers again. She pulled my hips against her in response and greedily sucked on my tongue. I groaned when the door opened at our floor and Bella laughed as I pulled her down the hall to our room. Unlocking the door, I pushed her inside ahead of me, slamming it closed behind us with my foot and tossing the bags near the bed. I drew her to me, kissing and nipping on her neck, stopping only to lift her shirt over her head. I walked her backward to the bed, my mouth on hers and her hands tangled in my hair. I worked her shorts down her hips, drawing them off as she fell to the mattress. Bella's tiny hands undid my jeans and I shoved them down, reaching into my bag to grab another condom and toss it on the bed. I grabbed her ankles and lifted her knees over my shoulders, my hands moving under her hips and lifting that sweet little slit to my mouth. My teeth grazed across the little bundle of nerves at her apex then I plunged my tongue into her molten core. Sucking, thrusting, lapping, my mouth and tongue worked her over while she writhed and screamed my name in ecstasy.

When she shuddered to completion, I let her hips down and laid her legs on the bed. Kissing my way up her abdomen, I smiled when Bella giggled as I hit a ticklish spot. Continuing the path upward, I pulled the fullness of her bottom lip into my mouth, sucking on it lightly before letting go. She leaned up into me, pushed me onto my back and straddled my hips.

"What about Arizona?" Bella asked, her teeth worrying her bottom lip. "Don't you need to find someone?"

I placed my thumb on her chin, pulling her lip free and leaned up to place a kiss on her delectable lips.

"I've been thinking, I'll report the car stolen and let the cops find her." I lost my train of thought as Bella worked the condom over my thick erection and lifted her body over mine, positioning my shaft at her opening. I let out a muffled growl when she slid down my length, nestling me deep inside her. I held her down tight against me, rotating my hips. Bella rocked against me, undulating over me, her walls clenching around me. Easing my grip, I let her lift away, and then rolled her to her back again. Thrusting deep into her again, burying myself to the hilt, I moved in and out, my thumb pressing on her clit. As our bodies shuddered, our orgasms washing over us again, I decided to forget about Maria and just be grateful that she's gone so far away.


End file.
